


Bulletproof Heart

by jb2001



Category: frerard - Fandom
Genre: Frerard, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-20
Updated: 2015-07-21
Packaged: 2018-04-10 09:13:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4386173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jb2001/pseuds/jb2001
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How can you tell if you're in love? When the world around you shatters to pieces and all you can think about is that particular person...</p><p>Anarchy has struck the world, bombs have been dropped from unknown locations, someone, or something, is out to kill everyone. Everything has fallen apart, places are being attacked, but there are no suspects.</p><p>Psychics are predicting an alien attack, though the world thinks the idea is crazy, it seems to be the only suitable explanation.</p><p>Two strangers traveling together, seeking to find their family members, fighting against all odds, and the whole time completely falling in love with each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger Warnings:  
> War  
> Fighting  
> Death  
> Violence  
> Strong language

-Gerard's POV-

His short, lanky figure made him stand out. He stood out better than a tall person, someone whose head was visible above a crowd. His black hair swept to one side flicked outwards at the ends. His pale face made his hazel eyes stand out. His lips pouted into a perfect 'o' as he blew steadily into his coffee cup, the steam rising around his face. He had a scorpion looking creature on one side of his neck, a pair of scissors on the other, with words wrapped around it in ribbon not visible from where I was sitting. His arms were tattooed with vividly bright colors, words were printed on his hands.

I sat in the booth across the room from him, a Starbucks coffee between my hands, warming my fingers from the slight chill. I ran my thumbs over the ridges in the paper cup, watching him from the corner of my eye. 

A sudden breeze jumped down the collar of my jacket, making my back tingle. I looked up to the top of the window. It sat open, the billowing wind coming in through the small gap. I pushed my scarf further towards my throat and tightened my coat around me. My feet bounced absently on the floor beneath the table as I watched this man with easy concentration. 

His jacket was slung over the back of his chair, one of his legs was folded over the other, his hands turning a mug of coffee in a circle with ease. His peculiarly long eyelashes fluttered with each blink, his mouth tensed and untensed as he watched each person enter and leave through the door in the corner. He examined his surroundings, something we had in common. His eyes scanned each table, even the empty ones with their tattered seats, then turned slightly to watch the workers at the coffee counter. He turned back after a while and fiddled with a peeled back corner of the laminate table. 

In most cases whilst checking out a good looking man, I would look away before eye contact was made. This time, however, when his eyes met mine, I continued to watch him. He stared at me, I stared at him. His head was down, just looking at me awkwardly. I continued to look at him, and when he sat up straight, about to break eye contact, I smiled gently at him. He returned an awkward smile before looking down distractedly at his coffee, which had stopped steaming.

I twisted around in my seat, so I was facing the table, and drummed my fingers against the laminate. When I looked up again, the mysterious man was pulling on his worn leather jacket, picking up a packet of cigarettes from the table once he had zipped it up. He took one last sip on the dregs of coffee, placed the mug down on the table, and walked back towards the door. "Don't let him go." I whispered. "Go after him, get his number, ask him out."

I shook my head violently, keeping my eyes closed for a couple of seconds. When I looked up again, he was wandering off down the street.

In some sudden instinct, I jolted to my feet, grabbing my cell phone from the table, and hurried for the door. I wrenched open the door, the bell rattling badly on the back of it, and looked at him walking into the distance. I started running, my feet automatically drawing me to him. When I caught up to him, I threw out a hand and grabbed his arm. He jumped, turned around quickly, pulling a pair of earbuds from his ears, looking rather alarmed. I held my hands up as if to say sorry. His muscles untensed. "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you." I said, laughing a little. "This is going to be completely out of the blue, but do you want to meet up or something? Dinner or a couple of drinks?" 

"Well, I'm working a night shift right now." He said, sucking his teeth.

"Oh, are you heading for the tube?" I asked as he began walking again.

He turned to me with a small smile upon his lips. "Yeah, to Petersfield General." He replied.

"That's my stop. My flat is opposite the hospital." I said, nodding curtly as we continued to walk the tube. "You don't mind, do you? Me tagging along?"

"Not at all. I'm going to the tube, you're going to the tube, why not go together?" He shrugged. "I still don't know your name."

"Gerard, my name's Gerard." I said.

"I'm Frank, nice to meet you." Frank said politely, and held out a fairly small tattooed hand which I took generously and shook.


	2. Chapter Two

-Gerard's POV-

The tube was crammed, so I suggested waiting for the next one, but Frank claimed he had to be at work for seven pm and couldn't wait around. We managed to push through the doors, grabbing the handles above us. I was repeatedly shoved against the closed doors as the train rattled on. Frank stood opposite me, his head directly under the arm of a man dressed in baggy work trousers and a sweat stained vest. He was sweating profusely and was letting off scents of putrid body odour. Frank had a look of utter regret on his face, probably because he had decided to not to wait for the next train.

My leg was bent at an awkward angle as the train came to a slow at the first stop, the doors sliding open. People piled out, others piled in, a man in a navy blue suit stood directly in front of me, pushing me further against the wall of the tube. I glanced over at Frank, who was on tiptoe, trying to keep hold of the handle above his head. "Should we walk?" I eventually asked as the train stopped at the next platform.

Frank nodded thankfully, ducked under the arm of a man on his other side, and stood impatiently, waiting for the door to open. When some more people had hurried off the tram, I edged past the suited man and followed Frank to the end of the platform. We scanned our tickets on the monitors and mounted the stairs. When we reached the top of the stairs, the air was cold, the wind was slight yet rather powerful, and even Frank began buttoning up his jacket.

We walked the way towards the hospital the way we were both familiar with. "So, um, what do you do at the hospital?" I asked, slipping my hands in my pockets as we went the opposite way from the crowds.

"I'm a doctor. I work in the ER department." Frank said, turning his head to look at me. "What do you do?"

"I'm currently unemployed. I worked as a lawyer for a long time, but the company was going downhill and profits were at an all time low. The company was shut down a couple of months back. I've been looking for something else, but so far, no luck." I said, ending with a sigh.

"I studied law enforcement in college, but I guess I changed my mind when I left. I started off as a porter, I just worked my way up to becoming an official doctor." Frank said, glancing both ways at the crossing before we crossed to the other side. "How'd you get to being a lawyer?"

"Ah, you know, I didn't have many life opportunities in school. My mom got me an apprentiship at a local lawyers and I just built it up from there." I said. "So, do you have a family?"

Frank hesitated. "Well, I had a girlfriend, I totally fucked that up though. I had a fling with a guy and she found out. Well, we were both as bad as each other. She texted me a couple of weeks later and told me she was pregnant. Do you know what she said? 'I'm pregnant. The kid isn't yours'." He laughed a little.

"You had a fling with a guy?" I asked.

"Yeah. I was in denial with my relationship with her. I knew I was gay even before we started dating." Frank said, then turned to me. "I thought you were gay?"

It was my turn to hesitate. "Well, uh, I-" I looked down awkwardly at my feet, moving in time with Frank's.

"Ah, I see. I was in denial with my relationship, you're in denial you're gay." Frank said, ending his sentence with a cute little laugh.

"I am gay, it's just, you know, something I don't prefer to advertise to the world." I said, feeling a little uncomfortable about the conversation.

"You mean you're scared people won't accept you?" Frank asked.

"Uh, yeah, I suppose so." I shrugged. 

We walked across another crossing and suddenly were stopped behind a crowd of whispering people. "What's going on?" Frank whispered.

"The billboard, look at the billboard!" Someone hissed, turning momentarily to look at Frank.

Me and Frank looked at each warily, then followed everyone else's eyes to the billboard planted high above us on top of a designer fashion shop. A picture was on screen, it was the Channel 5 news. White writing typed across a little red box read: New York victims of new terrorist attack.

The picture on screen was of the New York skyline, plastered in smoke, blazes of fire burning slowly upon popular buildings. Fire engine sirens wailed in the streets below, the big red trucks speeding, taking turns here and there, just visible through the neverending smoke. The picture shrunk, whilst a new picture enlarged itself next to it. It was a news anchor. He had begun speaking. "Terror has hit New York tonight as the most popular city throughout the states has been home to new bombings. Unlike the bombings which took place in 9/11, the bombs used in this attack are far more different. The bombs seemed to have fallen from an empty sky. When the bombs had exploded, all areas surrounding claimed they had been affected. Emergency services rushed to the scene. Over three hundred people have already been pronounced dead. But is this he start of something possibly bigger than the ever so famous 9/11?" 

I looked over at Frank, whose eyes were glued to the big screen, his mouth hanging open slightly. "It's around now I realise how lucky we are we're far away from NY!" Someone from the crowd shouted.

"No!" One distraught woman cried. "My daughter is in New York!"

One man who had a phone to his ear looked up. "They've identified some of the bodies!"

A woman from the front of the crowd was scrolling through a page on her iPhone. "Some more people have been found amongst the wreckage! The numbers have gone up to five hundred!" She yelled.

"I was just there yesterday!" A man yelled from the side. "I was there!"

I glanced over at Frank, who's face had turned pale white. "What is it? Are you alright?" I asked, resting my hand on his arm. 

"My sister... My sister lives in New York." Frank said, swallowing hard, sweat beginning to roll down the side of his face. He pulled out his mobile, pressed a dial button under the name of Lauren and held the phone to his ear. I edged over to him and pressed my ear to the back of the phone. A distraught sounding girl picked up after a while.

"Frank?!" She cried. "Frank?!"

"Lauren, listen to me, are you okay? Are you hurt?" Frank said hurriedly, almost shouting.

There was commotion in the background, screaming, crackling, sirens wailing. "Frank, I'm fine. I'm scared Frank, what's happening?"

"They think its a terrorist attack. Listen to me, are you safe, where are you?" Frank asked.

"I was coming out of the tube station when it happened. Explosions and fire, the ground was fucking shaking!" Laura yelled. "People are dead, Frank, loads of people. There aren't many survivors."

Suddenly, the sound of a distorted plane flying close by sounded through the phone. People started screaming, something exploded, and Laura screamed. "FRANK!!!" Then the phone cut out.

Frank held it in front of them, the call had disconnected. We looked back up to the billboard. "We've just had reports that New York has been bombed again. A radioactive bomb was dropped seconds earlier on the scene. More buildings have been taken down and there is believed to be over one thousand deaths calculated so far. There is said to be just a few survivors throughout the wreckage."

Frank looked down at the phone, his face growing whiter and whiter. "Laura..." He whispered, his eyes widening. "I've got to go and find her."

"Wait, is that really sensible?" I said, grabbing his arm as he walked away.

"It's no use!" Someone said from behind us, and we turned back to look at him. "My best friend is in New York. He survived. They're not letting anybody in or out!"

"She's my sister." Frank said quietly, looking at me with dull eyes, before he turned and ran off.

I bolted after him, grabbed his arm, and pulled him back. "I have a car, back at my apartment. You shouldn't go on your own." I said.

"You're going to take a stranger all the way to New York when there's no chance of even getting in? You're fucked up man." Frank exclaimed.

"I don't think we have time to discuss this, you either say yes or no!" I prodded, until he nodded quickly. "Let's go!"

We weren't far from my apartment, and without hesitation, we ran back, where I took Frank back up to my place to pack some essentials. I grabbed a bag from my wardrobe and started chucking in food, blankets, any other things we would need. I zipped up the bag, grabbed my car keys from the hook on the back of the door and we raced down the stairs to the garages.

We jumped into my SUVA, Frank chucking the bag in the trunk and diving in the passenger seat as I started up the car. Swerving back out of the parking space, I turned the wheel and sped towards the exit. The barriers were up, most of the parking lot was empty, probably trying to reach their dead or hurt loved ones.

I drove as fast I could towards the highway. No one I knew was in New York at this time, so I didn't know how Frank might have felt. The only way I could understand was because I lost a very dear friend of mine in the 9/11 tragedies. Maybe I wanted to take Frank to NY because I understood the pain of not knowing if someone was alright. "Fuck..." I said quietly as I pulled onto the highway.

It was packed with cars, slamming on their horns, screaming out of the windows for people to hurry their asses up. I pulled to a stop behind a red sports car and slammed my hand on the steering wheel. "What are you doing? Drive around them!" Frank yelled to me.

"I can't! There's nowhere to go! What the fuck can I do about it?!" I yelled back, pressing down harshly on the horn. "Stop yelling at me and ring your fucking sister!"

"She's probably dead already! You heard that guy on the news!" Frank yelled.

"What's wrong with trying?!" I shouted. "She might still be alive! You can't give up just like that!"

Frank pulled out his cell, dialled in her number again, and held the phone to his ear, his forehead pressed against the window. "She's not fucking picking up!" Frank said, tears rolling down his cheeks. "Why isn't she picking up?!"


End file.
